


Princess of the Sandcastle

by KaiserinAstraia



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Before Limit Cut, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Kairi Stans DNI, Mentioned Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Post-Re:Mind, They Are Not Friends, Unrequited Love Implied (Kairi)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserinAstraia/pseuds/KaiserinAstraia
Summary: They had to do their best, to save Sora. That was the one thing they could agree on, right? To do their best, for Sora?“...Let’s do our best,” Kairi said, hopeful and calm in a way she wasn’t.Even the air seemed to freeze at her words. In an instant she knew it was the wrong thing to say, but she couldn’t swallow them back up.Finally looking up, she saw that Riku’s fists had clenched and were shaking.“This,” he whispered, sharp like a hiss, “thisis your best?”Or: In which Kairi and Riku discuss her decision to sleep.
Relationships: Kairi & Riku (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 152





	Princess of the Sandcastle

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn't normally have a disclaimer, but, just to be clear, this is my take on Kairi and Riku's relationship. If they were ever to become truly friends, they'd have to do a lot of work -- and that isn't on either of their priority lists, unfortunately.
> 
> That being said, please enjoy Kairi and Riku having a long-awaited argument.

One by one, everyone left. Ansem the Wise went first, thoughts already consumed by the need to prepare for the next day, followed by Ienzo and Even, discussing the potential _discoveries_ they could make from Kairi’s decision, and then Aqua, silent and grim, and lastly, King Mickey. The King looked back and forth between Kairi and Riku with concern in his eyes. Kairi didn’t know what to say, and Riku didn’t move or look back. He was staring down at his crossed arms, silent and still, as he had been the whole discussion. Mickey paused before he left, opening his mouth to say something, but then stopped, giving them one last sad look before closing the door behind him.

Now nearly vacated, the room was much more spacious and white. It only had a doctor’s bed that Ansem the Wise had inspected Kairi on, and a single guest chair shoved as far into a corner as it could go. The air still smelled sterile despite all the bodies that had been inside, and the room was eerily quiet. The silence ticked on like a countdown or the calm before a storm, tension circling and circling around the two left standing in the room. 

Kairi was glad she wouldn’t rest _here_ , in this small, empty room. It gave her shivers, though they didn’t feel like they were totally hers -- when Namine left, some things stayed, like footprints in the sand. Phantom pains of memories Kairi didn’t have. This room felt like that, too, like it held too many secrets. But, she supposed _where_ she slept didn’t matter in the end, since she wouldn’t be conscious of it.

Kairi leaned back against the cold bed and stared down at her pink skirt, playing with a string that’d snapped and frayed at the end. It was the only thing out of place on the garment, and she focused on it like if she could pull it nice and neat, everything would solve itself. Besides, pink was her favorite color, and comforted her to see. Pink was the color of hearts -- a reminder that she still held the Princess of Heart title, and that _meant_ something. Pink was a romantic color, of sunsets and valentines and crushes. It was everything she wanted.

The skirt was pink, and unmarred from their battles against the True Organization -- that was comforting, too, that despite everything she appeared put together and vibrant. Like she hadn’t shattered. And that was why she didn’t want to look up -- to her childhood friend who stood in silence. His jacket still bore burned holes; his shirt was ripped, collar frayed; his pants were littered with dark stains of blood or Darkness, and Kairi shuddered to find out which it was. 

She regulated her breath, slowly taking air in and out. Since Sora’s disappearance, Riku and Kairi sat together in silence many times. Each time, she told herself, she should feel at ease. She told herself they were mourning together. But still, every time, she felt like they were on the brink of speaking, and it would open some wound that wouldn’t heal right no matter what they did to bandage it. 

It was no different this time, and yet she felt fixed in place -- she didn’t know what Riku would say, if he did say anything at all, but -- a small, whispering part of her said she owed him this, at least. 

She couldn’t bear to meet Riku’s eyes, though she felt them bore into her. She didn’t know what she’d see. Judgement? Hurt? Relief? -- that she’d made the decision to sleep, to let her heart be searched, for Sora? He’d been silent the whole time Ienzo, Even, and Ansem the Wise discussed the hypothesis, the particulars, the whys and hows. There was no indication of approval, disapproval, or even apathy. Though she claimed they were best friends, Kairi had never known how to read him, and that had only gotten worse with the time and distance. 

But it wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. _Sora_ was the reason they were here. Sora was the reason she’d come to this choice. If there was even a _chance_ \-- but, she reminded herself, it was more than a chance, it was _certainty_ \-- that they could find him in her heart, from their connection, they had to take it. They had to do their best. 

That was the one thing they could agree on, right? To do their _best_ , for Sora?

“...Let’s do our best,” Kairi said, hopeful and calm in a way she wasn’t. 

Even the air seemed to freeze at her words. In an instant she knew it was the wrong thing to say, but she couldn’t swallow them back up.

Finally looking up, she saw that Riku’s fists had clenched and were shaking.

“This,” he whispered, sharp like a hiss, “ _this_ is your best?” 

It was a slap to the face. 

She didn’t answer -- no, she didn’t have air in her _lungs_ to answer. He turned toward her, fists balled at his sides. She still couldn’t meet his face. “We— we haven’t even searched all the worlds he’s been to yet. We haven’t tried Ansem the Wise’s data. There’s no _reason_ for you to—“ he stopped abruptly, before his voice grew any louder. 

Everything he’d said, she knew. They were pulling out all the stops to find and save Sora. And yet… she couldn’t explain the _anger_ she felt at him repeating all their options -- like she _wasn’t_ the centerpiece. She couldn’t explain the _hurt_ , like a knife in her chest, not just injuring but stopping everything else inside.

_He doesn’t think I can find Sora._

“No _reason_?” she said, voice already trembling. She hardly recognized it, and she hated it. It belied _weakness._ “Sora found _me_ in his heart.” 

It was the mantra she told herself, to reassure herself, that whatever had been lost between a year forgotten and a year away, their connection had been reborn stronger than ever. It’s what Sora _told_ her when he’d said goodbye. They’d be together no matter what! They’d made a promise on the paopu tree -- They were _connected_ in a way _no one else_ was…. 

What they had was _hers_.

But when she finally looked up, to meet Riku’s eyes defiantly, she knew hadn’t said it for herself. She saw the light in Riku’s eyes; she saw strength; she saw purpose, determination, and desperation that _she didn’t have_. And she knew her words were a knife, sharpened and barbed, and she’d said it anyway, nor did she stop. 

“I’m only _doing_ this because it’s the _best chance_ of finding him!” 

And there it was. “Best chance” — it was what everyone was thinking. Kairi was the girl Sora _liked,_ Kairi was a _princess_ , full of _light_. She wore pink, the closest color to red -- Sora’s favorite color. _She_ would save him this time. It’s what she promised. It was their _destiny_.

“Is it?” Riku said, coldly. “Do you feel him, in your heart?” His tone was far too knowing. It sent something like a clammy vine through Kairi, around her throat and down her spine, tight. Caged.

She had to fight for thoughts -- for her voice. Kairi didn’t think he’d fight back. The boy she knew, the one who’d burn from any sunlight despite being an islander, the one who tried to pretend he was the leader when he was following, would have glared, and stormed away with eyes dark and icy. That’s what he _always_ did, and he _always_ took Kairi’s words the worst way, in ways she didn’t even mean. But she didn’t know how to handle _this_ boy that stood his ground and saw through her lies more than she did. 

“Y-yes,” she said, but didn’t have a single shred of evidence or feeling to back it up. She’d tried -- she had _begged_ Sora to appear, as an apparition, in a dream, _anything_ , to no avail _._ All she had was Ienzo’s hypotheses, all the words Ansem the Wise and Vexen tossed around that she didn’t understand. None of them did.

“Then _why_ haven’t you brought him back.” Riku was seething now, jaw clenched. It was a question both of them knew she had no answer to. She felt small under his sharp stare. At least that hadn’t changed. “This is what you do _every time.”_

The anger worked its way back up, from the pit of her core and up her throat, burning away whatever constricted her. She glared back up at him, unwilling to budge. “Do _what,_ Riku?” 

He didn’t have the kindness to hesitate. “You always take the _easy_ route.”

Despite being a heart of “ _pure light_ ” (whatever that meant, even Kairi didn’t know, really--) It was sinfully easy to let her rage match Riku’s. He’d always been good at it, dragging it out of her no matter how hard she clung to serenity. 

Kairi couldn’t hold back her indignant scoff. “Easy?!”

“Yeah,” Riku said with _too much_ honesty, “just going to lay down and let everyone _else_ do the work and make the sacrifices while you can take the _credit._ ” His conviction was so _final_.

Kairi hadn’t ever felt as she did at that moment. It wasn’t anger, it was fury. It wasn’t hurt, it was a laceration. Everything she’d been holding back suddenly was too much to carry, and her mouth was the broken dam. 

“I— _work_?” What did he think she was doing, taking a vacation? “What about _sacrifice?_ It could take weeks! _Months_! To find him!” 

Riku rolled his eyes. It took all Kairi’s willpower not to recoil. “Oh, poor you. You get to take a nap; _such_ a sacrifice.”

“It’s my life! I’ll _lose_ time,” she argued, though her eyes stung from the effort to continue to cling to her belief that this was all for _Sora_. Nothing about this was _easy_.

“You don’t know _anything_ about time.” Riku hissed, before he took a step forward. He had gotten so tall, in more ways than one. She didn’t fear his hands, but she felt her heart twist facing how he _eclipsed_ her. Lowly, he explained, “let’s talk about where you were when Sora slept a _whole year_ , hmm? Oh, that’s right. At home. Going to school. Living a _normal life_.” 

She swallowed, mouth drying. “That’s—“ her fists curled. “That’s not _my_ fault! I didn’t remember him, no one did!” 

Riku laughed so hollowly, it echoed inside her head. “Not everyone, Kairi.” 

“Wh—” she opened her arms up in exasperation, waiting for an explanation. 

Riku exhaled — more like deflated, and shook his head. He was pulling away from her. _She doesn’t get it_ , she knew he was thinking. 

“No, no you don’t,” Kairi hurled. “You don’t get to lord this over me, what do you _mean_ , Riku?” His frown and glare told her well enough he didn’t want to speak another word — maybe to her, ever again. It only made her angrier. “You _always_ do _this,”_ she echoed back at him. “You go off and do whatever _you_ feel like and leave me in the dark. I don’t know what I don’t know, Riku!” 

He grit his teeth again, crossing his arms. It only took a moment for him to decide. “Fine. Fine, you want to know? That _year_ that you forgot Sora, I was _watching_ him. I was _working, every_ ** _day_** _,_ to wake him up.”

It was a surprise, and not, at the same time. Sometimes, she forgot that Riku had been missing that year, too -- it was just so… predictable, she hadn’t paused for thought on why. Kairi knew that Riku would do anything for Sora, to lengths she knew she didn’t grasp — but this? A whole year? She had to pause.

Riku kept going, more ranting than addressing her. “And then, while you go off and get _kidnapped_ , I was helping Sora. And while you sat pretty in your cell, _I_ orchestrated Namine finding you — _I_ gave you your keyblade.”

She had to stop him. It was too much! That wasn’t her, it wasn’t her fault! “Oh, _oh_ , is _this_ what we’re doing now, listing it all out?” She laughed, and it was the cruelest thing that had ever left her lips -- as of yet. “Well, how about _you_ , then?”

“Sure,” Riku said, obnoxiously calm and composed. He crossed his arms, but instead of looking defensive he looked _expectant_. “Let’s hear it, then.”

She could never _stand_ his arrogance -- couldn’t years ago, and couldn’t now. “You seem to be forgetting it was _you_ who started this in the first place,” Kairi scathed, picking up momentum. Her nails dug into her palms. They hurt, but it was soothing. “You _destroyed_ our islands -- I lost my heart -- you _betrayed_ Sora. And _now_ you want to tell me all the work you did and the sacrifices you made? _I_ didn’t fall to darkness.”

Riku’s eyes were dark when she finished. “You don’t think I _know_ that, Kairi?” She glared back, gritting her teeth, but he continued, “you don’t think I think about that _every_ day? Guess what, Kairi, what you just said is what Ansem whispered in my heart every _day_ while you were home.”

“And what, that makes it better?” She wondered if she should be shocked that she felt nothing at his acknowledgement of his crimes -- no sympathy, no forgiveness, nothing.

“No,” Riku said, matter-of-fact. “But at least I _did_ something.” In a flash of light, he summoned Braveheart. He held it out like a sword on display, and pondered it. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of the keyblade,” he told her, and it ached with honesty even through his frustration. She almost wished she could cover her ears. “But it doesn’t _matter_. What matters is that I have the strength to keep going, to make things right. To _bring Sora back._ ”

Their eyes met. Riku wasn’t angry anymore. He was tired. “I thought... you had found that strength, too.”

The air had been vacuumed from her again. Like a sandcastle on the shore, crumbling with every wave, her rage deteriorated, but she piled on more sand, more dirt, to keep from breaking down. It was all she knew how to do.

It wasn’t _fair_. This wasn’t how this was supposed to _go_. Kairi was supposed to find Sora in a day’s time -- Kairi was supposed to have the answers. Kairi was supposed to hold herself with grace, soft smiles, pink and glowing with light and love. But Sora disappeared ( _it wasn’t Riku’s fault, it was yours -- your weakness made Sora go away_ ). Kairi _couldn’t_ feel her connection to Sora ( _Your charm failed._ ** _You_** _failed. You never protected anyone, not even yourself_ ). Her light brough _no one_ home ( _eclipsed eclipsed eclipsed eclipsed--_ ).

She didn’t know what was real anymore. Nothing she did, nothing she didn’t, changed a single thing. It had always been this way, too, hadn’t it? She remembered, the night before the islands collapsed, she had tried. _“Let’s take the raft and go, just the two of us!”_ and Sora, ever oblivious, ever kind, ever Sora, brushed it off like it meant nothing. She couldn’t change their destiny, from the beginning. She couldn’t change the fact she wasn’t a part of his. 

“You… blame me, don’t you?” Kairi asked, quiet. She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer. She looked down at her balled fists and forced them to uncurl. Her palms, at least, weren’t empty. They each had four pink crescents across the middle where her manicured nails dug in. “For Sora disappearing.”

It took him an agonizing moment of silence for Riku to respond. “No,” he said simply, “Sora had made up his mind.”

Tears were harder to hold back. She _hated_ him, that he wouldn’t just _say_ it. She hated that after all this, _all this_ , Riku was being kind _now_. She breathed in. Held it. Then breathed out. “I left the islands and trained… I _know_ it’s nothing compared to what you’ve done. But I did it, and it _wasn’t_ easy, for me. I fought even though I knew I wouldn’t… _couldn’t…_ be as good as you and Sora. But I did all I could.” Her nail marks in her palms were fading already, as if they’d never been there. Something about that…. Made her feel small again.“And it didn’t matter,” she said. “This is something I _can_ do.”

Maybe Riku was right. Sleep _was_ easy. Sleep was what princesses did, in pretty pink dresses, perfect and serene no matter how much time passed. Waiting. If she slept, maybe she could open her eyes to a world that hadn’t changed, hadn’t left her behind. Maybe, the Sora that came back would still hold her hand and tell her that she’s strong. Maybe, she’d awaken and find that her light was enough, after all. 

And Riku, whether he meant to or not, wanted to take that fantasy, that sole comfort, away. She couldn’t bear it.

“What do you _want_ me to do?” Though she hadn’t let a single tear fall, her voice betrayed her.

“I…” Riku sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

He wouldn’t comfort her, the same way she wouldn’t comfort him. He would have her face a life without Sora, a life without her tenuous hold on Sora’s. _He_ didn’t understand that without this connection, she’d have nothing. Riku was the waves that crashed into her perfect sandcastle (and always, _always_ , had been), but she refused to make another.

She would save Sora. She would sleep.

Silence fell over the room again, but this time, it was final. The storm had come, poured its outrage on them and left nothing but murky, sandy water between them. Nothing was fixed. Nothing was ok. _They_ weren’t ok -- and maybe, they hadn’t been for longer than Kairi had ever thought. But there was nothing to be said.

Riku sighed one more time, and Kairi didn’t lift her eyes as he walked away. She heard the door handle rattle as he pushed it down. He hesitated -- she could see his fist clench in the tell-tale sign he had more to say, but wouldn’t say it. It didn’t matter -- she wouldn’t hear it.

He left. The door clicked closed after him, gently -- she wondered if that was how the doors of Kingdom Hearts closed, too, and if this was how Sora felt on the other side. She wondered what would have happened had Sora come home with her, on that first adventure.

It was a nice thought, and she decided that that was what she’d dream about first.

**Author's Note:**

> On twitter as KaiserinAstraia! Soriku Hours All Hours


End file.
